Laurel Blossom
by Mikolaj
Summary: AU based on Disney's 'Tangled.' The story of how a witch came to meet her end.


"Tell us a story, tell us a story!"

The two children sat happily on either side of the man's chair and watched him intently. It was just after sun down, and so he had a fire going in the fireplace for both light and a bit of extra warmth on that chilly autumn evening. The doors to the balcony were opened up and stretches of colorful leaves were visible beyond, covering the trees that blanketed the western and northern sides of the Kingdom. To the south, there were the farms, and the east was the ocean, but the forest always provided the grandest spectacle, as well as the most enchanting tales.

The man set down his book and leaned back in his chair, looking at each of the two children, first the girl, then her brother.

"All right. But just one story, and then you two have to go to bed."

"Okay!" The girl giggled, and the man lifted her onto one leg, and her little brother onto the other. He looked out of the balcony towards those woods, which had begun to look twisted and evil in the dark evening light. He gave them each a smile, cleared his throat, and began his narration.

"This is the story of how I died."

Upon seeing the looks of horror on their faces, the man laughed.

"Don't worry, it's actually a really great story, and to be honest, it isn't even really mine.

This is the story of a girl named Laura."

—-x—-

It began with the sun.

One day, many centuries ago, a drop of sunlight fell from the heavens and sprung forth a flower. This flower, with its petals of shimmering gold and its stem of pure, emerald green, had the ability to grant longevity and to heal the ill and the wounded. It was rumored to hold many more powers than that, as well.

An old crone found this flower, and instead of sharing its gifts with the people of her village, who long suffered from famine and disease, she kept it hidden away in a woven basket of greenery that blended in with the flora around it. She sang to it, a special incantation, to fill her with youth once more. She kept herself young and beautiful, and no disease ever touched her, no injury marred her skin.

They called her Kimura, which in their tongue, meant witch. She took no offense to it, and merely watched her kin die off one by one, until she was all that remained of her people.

She built a tower, deep in the woods, and made it tall enough that, from the highest window, she could see the flower's hiding place and make sure that it had not been disturbed. Over several decades, she lived quietly in solitude, living from the land and never growing older.

Though, as time wore on, a kingdom came to grow nearby. It flourished as a port and made itself famous off of her own lore; the tale of the wild witch and her golden flower of dreams. She merely laughed it off, and paid it no mind; she ignored the kingdom and watched, amused, as its people came from across the bridge to search for what they called the fairy tale blossom.

For hundreds of years, none could ever find it. It was written off as a child's tale, and life moved on for all but her. A prince took his bride and they became King and Queen, as several had before them, and they conceived a child together, just as the King and Queen had before them.

However, this time, the Queen grew terribly ill.

Frantically, not wishing to lose his bride and child, the King sent his armies and his people to search for this flower. Kimura cared not for them; she had hidden it so well, she thought, that none would ever be able to find it. As she did every month, she went to the flower and sang to it, its magical song that sent life and sunlight pouring through her veins.

She was so careless that as she left, her lantern hit the basket, knocked it away, and exposed the gleam of the petals to the view of the sharp-eyed soldiers. They converged upon the flower once she was gone, pulling it up by the roots and carrying it back to their kingdom while she watched, blistering with rage, from her tower.

The King and his doctors knew not of an incantation, so they mixed the flower into an herbal brew instead, and gave it to the Queen to drink. It worked; the illness was gone from her body, and both she and the baby were fine.

Within weeks, a beautiful baby princess was born. Her eyes glimmered emerald, and her hair was, like her mother's, thick and black and lustrous. She was immediately beloved by all of the Kingdom, and the King and Queen lit a lantern to float into the heavens in homage to the sun, whose power had certainly saved their daughter's life.

Kimura grew desperate. She began to age, becoming older and weaker more rapidly with each passing day. There had to be something that she could do, there had to be! She integrated herself amongst the townspeople and listened to their gossip. Perhaps another flower was in the woods that she had not yet found. Or new medicines.

A guard's tale suddenly proved very fruitful. He told her willingly of how he'd cut his hand and the tears of the Princess had healed him, and even gotten rid of old battle scars.

That very night, she crept into the Princess' bedroom and sang her incantation, hoping to discover the source of her power. Sure enough, her hair glowed golden as she sang, and she could feel the life surging back into her veins. Just a lock would do, she thought, and she tried to cut away just some from behind her ear, unnoticed…

When the scissors fell together, and the hair was severed, the power went with it, and Kimura was left with a lifeless black lock of hair between her fingers. She hefted the Princess into her arms, knowing that the child was the only way to become youthful again. The baby cried, and woke her parents, but by the time they reached their daughter's crib, Kimura had vanished with her.

Every year, on the Princess's birthday, her grieving parents, and the people of the Kingdom, lit thousands of lanterns into the night sky, hoping that the illuminations would be seen by their daughter and would guide her home to them. They did not know that she was so close, just in that hidden tower in the woods.

Kimura blocked off all entrance to the tower, save for that one window from which she used to keep a vigilant watch over her flower. As the Princess grew, it became her window to the world, and on that one night each year, that night she knew to be her birthday, she crept past Kimura's bed and opened the shutters and watched the lights float upward into the starry sky.

During the day, however, she was trapped, kept inside and told horror stories about the world beyond that window. Kimura brushed out her hair and the girl would sing the incantation, and Kimura stayed young forever.

She named the girl Laura, after the laurel blossom shape of the flower from which they both had drawn their life.


End file.
